


Compromises

by femmenoire



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 20:52:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmenoire/pseuds/femmenoire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every relationship has its quirks, but Aisha and Clay have a little more baggage than most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compromises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pouncer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pouncer/gifts).



> HI! I've never written this fandom before, so thanks for giving me the chance. These characters are awesome, so I hope I did them a little bit of justice. Enjoy!

“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said, voice strained “this doesn’t fix anything.”

“I know,” he said, slipping his hand underneath her dress.

“Colonel.” Pooch’s voiced intruded through the comm link. “We can hear you.”

Clay’s hand crawled along her thigh “Recon’s over. We’ll debrief tomorrow.”

“What time,” Jensen asked, clearly laughing.

“Doesn’t matter. Go away,” Clay said, ripping the transmitter out of his ear with his free hand. “Now, where were we?”

She pushed him away, swatting his hand when he tried to reach for her hip.

“You lose your nerve, little girl?”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly and she grabbed the hem of her dress, raising it just high enough to show the edge of her panties. “You keep talking and I just might.” When he pressed his lips shut in a smile, she lifted the dress over her head and threw it down at her side. “Good boy.”

He lunged before he knew for sure what he was doing and pressed her against the wall. He pushed his mouth against hers, slipping his tongue inside, she scraped it with her teeth.

He pried her legs apart and moved his hand in between.

“Ahh…”

He rubbed her pussy through her panties; she was wet and warm.

She bucked against his hand. “You just gonna play with me Clay.”

He ran his fingers up her slit slowly. “Am I allowed to talk now,” he breathed against her neck, before biting the flesh softly.

“A simple yes or no will suffice.”

He ripped her panties away and pressed his hips against her.

She moaned and he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.

She ran her fingers through his hair. “I’ll take that as a no.”

***

 _Clay doesn’t mind a woman who needs to punch him square in the jaw every now and then. Hell, he doesn’t even mind when she needs to take a shot at him, just as long as the bullet misses, or at least doesn’t hit any major arteries._

 _Every relationship has its quirks._

  
 _Besides, there’s nothing sexier than a woman who can break a man’s jaw. And Aisha’s brand of controlled ferocity was pretty goddamn intoxicating._   


  
_But what really made him hard in the middle of the night while he lay in bed, thinking about her, was the way she moaned his name; loud and insistent. It wasn’t soft and grateful, more like an order, like every high-pitched squeal was a command: harder, faster, fuck right there._   


  
_At least that’s what Clay thought, and she didn’t seem to have any complaints. ___  


***

She threw her bra at him. “Strip.”

She was lying on the mattress, head propped on a pillow, her knees and ankles together, giving him just the smallest peek of her pussy. He rubbed his cock through his pants.

“You could ask nicely,” he said, staring at her breasts as her chest rose and fell.

“Oh, I’m sorry Clay. You want to be courted?” Her tone was teasing, bordering on condescension.

Slowly, she ran a hand in between her breasts, down her stomach, circled a finger around her belly button. She stopped just above her pussy to make sure he was paying attention and then spread her legs, sliding one finger down her slit and back up again.

“Strip,” she said in a soft voice dripping with lust.

He slipped off his clothes quickly, his eyes on her hands while she played with herself.

“See, I knew you could be nice,” he whispered.

When he was naked, she lifted her left foot up at him and he grasped it immediately, dipping his head to kiss her toe, running his tongue across the arch. He kissed his way up her ankle and calf. He was painfully hard and squeezed his dick every now and then to relieve some of the pressure.

He pushed her legs further apart and licked his way up one thigh and down another. She bent her knees and rested just the balls of her feet on his shoulders.

“Do you need me to tell you what to do or do you have this,” she asked, with that damn grin on her face.

He kept his eyes on hers and blew a soft warm breath directly on her clit.

She tried to squirm, but he gripped her hips.

He dipped his head and ran his tongue up her pussy and then sucked hard on her clit for a few seconds, just long enough to raise her feet, so that only the tips of her toes were touching him. A strangled cry escaped her throat.

“You saying I don’t know what I’m doing?”

She was panting, gripping her thighs. She locked eyes with him and ran her hands down her thighs, up her ribs to cup her breasts before pinching her nipples.

He lowered his head and began alternately licking and sucking. Slow hip gyrations turned into a rhythmic pressing of her pussy into his mouth. He moved a hand to her opening and suckled at her clit as he sank two fingers into her.

“Ah fuck.”

He smiled, his mouth still pressed against her.

“Stop smiling,” she said in a hard tone.

He responded by pushing another finger inside her. She moaned appreciatively. Or at least he took the loud scream as appreciation. At the very least, it wasn’t anger.

***

 _Clay was bleeding._

 _Aisha tried not to smile, but… well, she didn’t try that hard._

  
 _She’d caught him off guard and hit him in the mouth with her elbow, followed quickly by a hard blow to the ribs before he backed up._   


_“This funny to you,” he asked, licking at his wound like an animal. It made her heart beat a little faster._

  
 _“A little bit, yeah.”_   


  
_He ran his hand along his ribcage, checking for a break. “This is why the men don’t want to spar with you.”_   


  
_“No,” she said, resting her practice sticks on her shoulders. “The men don’t want to spar with me because they’re scared.”_   


  
_“Because you have a bad attitude.”_   


  
_“Whatever Clay. You ready to go again or do you need a rest old man.”_   


  
_He knew by the smile on her face that this was a joke, but that didn’t stop the bile rising in his throat. “Old man? Did you just-”_   


  
_“There’s a lot of gray there on the sides,” she said pointing her stick towards him; he swatted it away with his own. The vibration of the wood connecting reverberated up his arm._   


  
_“Get in position.” He growled through clenched teeth._   


  
_She smiled, but kept her eyes on him as she flexed her arms. “You gonna punish me Clay?”_   


  
_His lips quirked in a grin and then he lunged. ___  


***

She straddled him slowly, one hand cupping his cheek, the other guiding his cock into her cunt.

When he felt how wet she was, he growled deep in his chest.

“Hmmmm, you need to take a heart pill,” she said as she engulfed him completely.

His fingers dug into her soft breasts, she winced from the pain, but smiled wider.

“I thought you were gonna be nice,” he said.

She leaned down and ran her tongue along the seam of his lips, dipping inside for a second when he opened his mouth to moan. “This is as nice as I get,” she whispered.

He lifted his hips instinctively.

He cupped the back of her head and kissed her roughly, just the way she liked it.

She raised her body off of his lap and lowered it slowly, and then repeated the motion. A soft humming turned into a full-fledged moan as her movements increased in speed.

He kept kissing her until, finally, he released her mouth. The room filled with their incoherent mummers and high-pitched cries.

His lap was wet and the sweat poured down her back. He kissed her face, her chest, sucked a nipple into his mouth. She pulled his head to her body, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hair at his nape.

“Oh fuck. Oh god, I’m coming,” she said, her lips pressed against his forehead.

He flipped her onto her back and lifted himself onto his hands, while pounding his hips into her.

“ohmygodohCLAYohahhhohmygodFUCK,” she screamed, her hands covering her eyes, gripping her head.

He ground into her for a few more seconds until he came, hard: a loud cry, followed by a soft exhalation of her name against her fingers.

***

She collected her clothing slowly. She didn’t tip toe, but she didn’t want to wake him either.

He watched her behind half-lidded eyes, until she found both of her shoes.

“You could stay the night, you know.”

She exhaled loudly before turning towards him.

Her face wasn’t angry or annoyed, mostly just sad and conflicted.

Clay had become used to this particular look and assumed that eventually she’d add shame to the mix.

“No, I can’t,” she said before heading towards the door to leave.

He sat up to watch her go. “I had to do it,” he yelled after her. “What else could I do?”

She stopped, her hand on the handle, but didn’t turn to face him again. “He was my father. What do you expect me to do?”

“Forgive me,” he said, but wasn’t sure if she heard as the door closed behind her.

  



End file.
